When Were You Happy?
by Calla Mae
Summary: "I look at you and I feel like I've known you. And of all the people I've met, the different lives they lived and the experiences they had, you're the only one who knows me." Daniel/OC
1. Day One: Part One

Alan walked out of the meeting room still barely able to collect his thoughts. A possible retroviral outbreak, two dead, another one infected – Peter. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"Hey."

He looked up at the sound of that familiar voice, warm and soothing; he'd know her cadence anywhere. "Hey," he greeted in return, an almost relieved breath leaving him as he looked at her sweet smile. They moved without hesitation. There was no need to wait for someone to move first, no awkwardness from the months they spent apart. There was no time between them. Her hands were around his back and his arms held her tight against his chest as they breathed in the feeling of home.

…

"What's Tristen doing here?" Doreen asked at the sight of the young woman standing beside Alan.

Julia turned to see them in the hall, glad Tris had been able to make it there on short notice. At first glance it always amazed her how much Tristen looked like Alan; similar jaw line and nose contour, his hair was peppered with gray but even their hair color was similar. It was almost remarkable considering she was only his daughter legally. "I called her," Julia answered. "I figured we'd need a nurse whose primary focus was on the wellbeing of the patients while we focused on the pathogen."

Doreen nodded her approval, knowing Tristen would act as an advocate to all patients and require that every test given was run by her first. "That and Peter's her uncle," she added, seeing Julia's brief nod.

"That's Dr. Farragut's daughter?" Major Balleseros asked looking the woman over. She reminded him of a china doll; doe eyed, a little too thin, a little too sweet, and so delicately lovely it'd be all too easy for her to shatter.

"Don't be gettin' any ideas now," Doreen warned, seeing his eyes were trained on Tris, "that girl's off-limits."

…

"How have you been?" Alan asked, knowing she'd come back from a case – several bouts of severe food poisoning, a small team had gone out and traced it back to a restaurant. He kept tabs on her regularly, constantly worried in their line of work. What a father she'd made him.

She was well aware the close eye he kept and she smiled. "I've been good. Lot of vomit but hey, no deaths on this merry-go-round," she said brushing aside the sheer amount of bodily fluids that she'd had to clean off the patients and herself.

"That makes it better," he said with a short laugh, having seen his fair share of death to be grateful for the cases without fatalities. But as quickly as a brief smile had graced his face he was serious once more; as happy as he was to see her, as warm and calm as she made him, she solidified that this was really happening. "Have you been briefed?"

Tristen nodded feeling her own fleeting joy at seeing him slip away as reality settled. "Yeah, Julia told me everything when she called. You okay with us working together?" She'd shadowed him a few times when she'd been in her program, but now that she was an Intelligence Officer they'd never worked together when she had any sort of a say. This was an entirely new ball game for them, him being her father and her having authority over patient care.

A half-smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "If I remember correctly you were the one who declined my offer to work on my team," he teased as he turned with a hand on her back to lead her into the room.

Her laughter was a gentle hum as she stepped through the doorway. "Don't pull the dad card and I might reconsider," she teased in return, earning a warm smile from him. For the moment, with the thought of a potentially dying Peter, it was enough.

* * *

><p>Tristen sat between Alan and Doreen with a notepad in hand writing down the little information they had as they flew to the facility, wishing for more detail as to Peter's vitals and whether or not he was actually stable.<p>

"Our primary goal is to identify this pathogen," Alan told them. "Sarah, you'll be with me and Peter on the deceased, establish the extent of the illness. Julia will determine the cause of the illness. Doreen I need you to swab every inch of Peter's lab, test every animal for the source of the illness." When he got an agreement from them, whether a quick nod or a quiet okay, he turned to Tristen. "Tris, for now I want you with Peter monitoring his vitals and keeping him stable until we find out what we're dealing with. I'm putting you in charge of recording the effects of the illness and how it progresses."

"Alright," she said with a nod, not needing to take note of that since it was primarily her job in every case.

Alan stared at her for several moments, seeing for the first time how much she'd grown up. No more were the days of her standing on the tips of her toes to peek over his shoulder, asking to be picked up so she could see in the microscope, needing his confirmation to know she was doing the right thing.

He looked at Julia briefly to see a small smile on her face as she stared at him. "She's good," Julia mouthed to him, seeing in his eyes the look of a father who realized he'd blinked and his daughter wasn't a little girl anymore. Where Alan had never worked with Tristen before Julia had on several occasions, she knew how capable and qualified she was as a nurse.

He nodded knowing Tris was. She knew her job, she was prepared to do it, and she didn't need him. That's what struck him the most, seeing her eyes on her notes instead of on him seeking reassurance; she didn't need him anymore. She'd grown up. "Look, we have no idea what this thing is so we treat it like a hot agent: BSL-4 protocol, full suits and decontamination showers for every potential exposure."

Naturally, Julia found an objection; "That could eat up a lot of time."

Tris sighed as she jotted down a few things she needed to know about that level protocol. And then brought a hand to her temple feeling a headache coming on when Alan responded; and then of course Julia offered a remark that Alan would be forced to reply to and on it would go. And all the while they were pretending to be pleasant when in truth they were uncomfortable and unhappy to be around each other. To make it better Doreen was on her right answering the new girl's questions about Alan and Julia's relationship – Tris had thought she'd left this behind and now she found herself right back in the middle again. They hadn't even gotten to the facility and she already regretted coming.

"This is gonna be the most frakked up family reunion ever."

"You're telling me," Tris said with a sigh as she turned to Doreen, knowing she'd end up in the middle of it. It's what happened when Alan first found Julia and Peter in bed; Julia had called her crying saying Alan probably wouldn't tell her and that he'd need her, Peter suddenly dropped by to visit, and she'd gone to see Alan to find him a wreck. And god forbid when Alan found out she'd taken a case with Julia after she'd turned him down to work with his team as their nurse.

Doreen smiled at the moping irritation on her face well aware that she'd be put between them all, and it'd end in her finally losing it and saying everyone was an asshole before she stormed off to find some quiet. "Don't worry monkey, if they start up again you can help me with the animals."

On the other side of Doreen Sarah watched the two share a smile. "How long have you known each other?" she asked quietly, knowing she was interrupting a moment between friends.

"I've known this one," Doreen started as she slapped a hand on Tristen's knee, "since she was in high school. She'd come down to the lab when she was bored, or a cold war started between those two," she motioned to Alan and Julia who sat still bickering. "She'd help with all the animals 'cept the monkeys. Hence why I call her monkey," she said turning to Sarah with a wry grin.

"They're like babies that can rip your face off, I'm completely justified in my aversion to them," Tristen said in her defense.

Sarah smiled at their easy ribbing. "She's right. Even at half our size a chimpanzee's arm strength is equal or greater than an average man. Macaques aren't as strong but they are still wild and can lash out unpredictably, making them more dangerous than an average man."

Doreen snorted as Tristen hummed her agreement to what Sarah had said. "Gettin' on the daughter's good side," Doreen said disapprovingly, knowing that'd been Julia's tactic as well – it never worked. Tristen either liked a person or she didn't, though the person usually wouldn't know.

"Shut it," Tris said elbowing her, making the other woman give a short laugh. Tris looked to the woman on the right of Doreen, having caught the moon-eyed way she stared at Alan. "I'm Tristen," she said holding out her hand.

Sarah smiled as she shook her hand. "I know, he talks about you all the time. I'm Sarah." Sarah watched the small smile Tris and Doreen shared, an inside joke she wasn't yet apart of. It was true that Alan did talk about her, maybe not as much as most fathers but when he did mention her it was clear he loved her. Sarah, who'd once thought it was charming, hadn't realized his daughter would be the same age as her – nearly the same height as well. The only real difference between the two, because they were both thin and narrow, was that Tristen seemed effortlessly comfortable in her own skin. They might've both been twenty-six but Sarah felt younger and more awkward when it was clear Tristen had known Alan's team for years. It didn't help that Tristen was hopelessly beautiful, at least as Sarah saw her; she was all cheekbones and elegance, her voice husky and her smile alluring and kind. And then there was Julia, who was somehow even more beautiful in her maturity. Sarah suddenly felt so small, out of place.

Tristen was comfortable in her skin; she knew who she was, she knew where she was going. What she didn't know was where her place was in the world, or even where she wanted to be. Her solid ground had crumbled almost twenty years ago, and Alan had done his best to give her a place to call home but the fact remained: she was lost. A wanderer in a strange land. An unwilling nomad looking for a place she belonged.

"Lock everything down and secure your safety belts; we'll be landing momentarily."

* * *

><p><em>I discovered Helix two weeks ago and blew through the first season. It wasn't until the 12th episode, when it was already too late, that I realized how much I'd come to like Daniel's character - he really grew on me. And then this idea happened, and thoughts of the show started to bleed into my daily life, and basically demanding me to write it. I'm starting this story how the show did, in that my character and her past will be fleshed out as the show progresses - which is something I've never done, so I hope to rise to the challenge. Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoy.<em>

_Fun Fact: the title of the story is taken from a song of the same name by Laura Marling._


	2. Day One: Part Two

Tristen didn't think she'd ever felt such cold. If not for the whirring of the propellers of the chopper they'd exited she thought she might've heard her skeleton trembling beneath her skin. She stood behind Julia and pulled her scarf over her nose as they waited for the man to reach them. "Daniel Aerov, head of security," he yelled over the cry of the wind. "Sorry we don't have the red carpet waiting, but we're not used to visitors."

"We're not used to red carpets," Alan replied shaking his hand.

Tristen turned at the feel of someone's arm pressing against her to see the Major beside her - a strange little half smile tilting the corner of his mouth. "You looked like you could use some warmth," he told her, his grin spreading at her wondering face.

"Thank you," she told him, her voice laced with uncertainty as she turned to the director of Arctic BioSystems introduced as Dr. Hatake. The army man stayed at her side as they walked the long snow covered path to the facility, their jackets rustling each time they brushed against each other. He wanted something. Every time he turned to her with a crooked smile on his handsome face that thought inexplicably echoed in her mind. She spent enough time around people who tried to convince her they weren't sick, they weren't contagious, they could go home because they just _knew_ they were fine - they'd go to almost any length be it violence or begging or even charm. There was something in his pretty eyes that had her mind saying, "don't trust him, he's playing you." She didn't know what to think; she didn't know him, it was possible he was simply trying to be nice because he didn't know anyone on the team. There wasn't enough information to draw any conclusions, that's what she told herself every time she felt his arm against hers.

It was almost a relief to be inside, though not much warmer when frigid air was following them down the hall at least they weren't in the wind. "We've come a long way for Peter. When can we see him?" Julia asked.

"He's been transferred to our isolation facility," Dr. Hatake told her. "I'm afraid the news isn't good. He's been in and out of consciousness for the last eight hours."

Tristen made a note to write that down as soon she could get her pad out of her bag, though before she could ask about Peter's vitals Alan was asking about the state of the facility; "are you implementing hard or soft quarantine?"

"Neither," Hatake answered.

It was an answer none of them expected, and the five members from the CDC wore nearly identical expressions of alarm as they looked at the Asian man. "You haven't locked down the base?" Julia asked, a question they were all wondering the answer to.

Hatake turned to her briefly. "Allow me to explain."

Before he could say anything more Alan was already speaking. "You have three victims of an unknown pathogen."

"And only three, who all worked in the same lab." Hatake didn't appear phased at the mild outrage from them; Tristen was impressed with his grace, she already wanted to tell Alan to shut up and let him talk, but Hatake's voice was as pleasant as it was when he first spoke. "Since we are not seeing a base-wide outbreak, we are fairly certain it's not airborne," he explained to the scientists halting his steps to wait for anymore questions they might have before they could continue.

"Well, at least you're fairly certain," Doreen said snidely, not liking the lax way the illness was being handled.

Tristen used their moment of reprieve to pull off her gloves and dig in her bag for her notepad, wanting to write down what Dr. Hatake said while it was still fresh in her mind. She paid little attention to Doreen's displeasure at seeing the chopper leave, barely heard Daniel's explanation or Balleseros' assurance. _"I'm afraid the news isn't good. He's been in and out of consciousness for the last eight hours."_ She wanted his exact words in case they were important. She knew all too well research facilities like this one had secrets waiting to come out, and it was possible this virus was that secret.

"Please stick out your left hand," Daniel said after moving to stand in front of them. "RFID marker injected under the skin. We all have them. Yours will give you unrestricted access to the base."

Daniel moved down the line of scientists until he reached the last one. He nearly rolled his eyes when the uniformed man told the woman not to worry it didn't hurt a bit, as if the lack of complaint from the others didn't already tell her that. And then he waited as she smiled kindly before her eyes followed the man as he walked away, the smile slipping from her face as she looked at where he'd touched her. After a moment she shook her head and held her left hand out for him to take.

"So I wave my hand in front of a sensor and the door'll open?" Tristen asked, not entirely sure what the markers were needed for – he hadn't given much detail besides unrestricted access. He was younger than she'd assumed outside, having had her head bent against the wind and never saw his face, head of security she'd thought at least late thirties. But she was getting a good look at him then and she didn't think he was more than a couple of years older than herself.

"Yes ma'am," he said as his thumb pressed down on the button that injected the marker into her skin, looking up at her briefly when she moved to see her curiously watching what was happening.

As much as she'd forced herself to appreciate Major Balleseros' kindness, he was right in it not hurting. There was a slight pinch nothing more, and so she lowered her hand. "I assume it's sterile?" she asked as they began walking with the others further into the facility.

"Yes ma'am," he told her, having had to think a moment before answering from how few times that question was asked.

She nodded having wanted to be sure, the last thing they needed was an infection as they tried to identify the pathogen. "One more question," she said holding up a finger, knowing she was trying his patience – and she was proven right when he turned to her with a heavy sigh. "Is it coated with a numbing agent?"

Daniel couldn't remember ever being asked that, people either forgot about it or didn't know to ask. "I take it you're the nurse," he said, his eyes trained ahead of them as they walked to the elevator.

"Am I that obvious?" she asked, thinking her questions were perfectly ordinary things to ask.

His eyes glanced her way before once more he was staring ahead of them. "That was more than one question," he said, seeing her head turn in his peripheral. "And yes you are."

She didn't even find herself offended he'd been so matter of fact, responding only because she'd ask and even then his words were few. She gave nothing more than a quiet "oh," before he motioned for her to step on the elevator before him, and found herself by Major Balleseros again.

After the lift began taking them down there was a moment where they stood gawking at the sheer mass of the facility they were now seeing through the window. "Sweet mother Mary Matthew."

Tristen couldn't have agreed more with Doreen's exclamation; even if the virus had come solely from Peter's lab not implementing even a light quarantine when there were so many floors it could potentially travel to - it would be extremely difficult to contain should it find its way out. And it only seemed worse when Dr. Hatake told them there were one hundred and six scientists in the base.

She looked up when Balleseros leaned closer. "Can you handle it if this thing spreads?" he asked, seeing then why they'd been so shocked at hearing there was no quarantine – besides of course the daunting fact they only had one nurse to care for patients. Sure a scientist could figure out basic medical procedures, but she was their saving grace and there was one of her and almost 130 people now in the facility.

Her eyes were hard though not unfriendly, and the worry was easily read from her face. "I may be good but I'm not Jesus," she told him quietly, seeing him smile before he looked away. That was the moment she knew she'd been right about him. This smile had been genuine and amused, and every smile before then had been perfectly calculated.

He turned back to her, having missed every time the pleasant look left her face, and smiled; not realizing she was playing him the same as he was playing her. "I never caught your name," he said forcing innocence in the tone of his voice. She was the daughter of the senior officer, if any information was uncovered she'd know about it and if he got close enough she'd tell him. Not to mention she'd be the easier one to restrain, she was a waif of a woman any gust of wind might carry away.

She was brought up short realizing in her misgivings of his intentions she'd never introduced herself. He didn't know anyone on the team, he was by default the odd one out since he wasn't with the CDC like the rest of them, and there she was barely managing to work up a smile. Her mother was probably rolling in her grave, she'd raised her daughter to be better. "Tristen Gardot," she said holding out a hand.

Oblivious to her change in demeanor he shook her hand thinking he was that much closer to fooling her. "Sergio Balleseros," he told her in greeting. "You can call me Sergio."

Both Doreen and Alan turned toward them, neither one of them liking the suave way in which 'Sergio' leaned his body toward Tristen's as he held her hand.

Her smile was nothing more than a quirk of her lips, caught between amusement and wanting to tell him she wasn't fooled by him. And so she settled for something simpler. "You can call me Nurse Gardot."

Sergio watched as her eyes moved to the window, her attention no longer on him, almost surprised by her wit. Alan had already turned away knowing his daughter could handle herself nor was she interested, behind them Daniel stood with a ghost of a smile just barely etched on his face, and to his right Doreen stood with hard eyes boring into Sergio's face. "Off limits," she mouthed angrily, though Sergio did nothing more than shrug off handedly.

"Nurse Gardot."

Tristen turned at the sound of Dr. Hatake's soft accented voice, seeing him standing behind her as he waited patiently for her attention. If a statue was ever brought to life she'd imagine it would behave very similar to this man.

"If you would not mind staying on with me, I can get you the personnel records to review before you see your uncle," he offered, having noted Major Balleseros had stolen her attention when Dr. Farragut had asked for them.

"That'd be great, thank you," she told him, feeling the lift come to a stop before the doors opened. She stood against the wall of the elevator as the others got off and looked up when Alan stopped in front of her.

"For the time being I'd like you just to review their medical histories," he told her knowing she'd want to go in and see Peter the moment she got back. "Until we know more about the pathogen. You're the last person we need infected." He waited for her refusal, to say her job was to care for Peter whether or not she could get infected. Hospital staff was almost always the first to contract the illness; nurses at the CDC were no exception.

But she nodded in agreement. He was her senior officer, unless Peter needed immediate care he could order her to keep her distance. "Say hi for me," she said, seeing the relief in his eyes before he stepped off the elevator; his duty as father satisfied in knowing she would stay safely outside of the room for the time being. Alan spared her a last look, offering a small smile as a means of comfort to both her and himself, before the doors closed cutting her off from him.

* * *

><p><em>My hope is that now they're at Peter the pace will start picking up more, that or more stuff is gonna start happening and it'll be a little more interesting than first introductions. <em>


	3. Day One: Part Three

Not long after collecting the files on the three infected, Tristen found herself standing in the observation room outside of where Peter was being held. Dr. Hatake handed her the files and before she could thank him, or think to ask any questions, he was offering to show her to her room so she might change into her uniform. The whole way they walked, to her room to the elevator then to isolation, she'd only asked one question – how long have you been here? Somehow his answer had multiplied into him asking questions about her, if she enjoyed her work if her and Peter were close. And then he left her with Daniel.

If it hadn't been for Peter's monitors beeping angrily she might've realized Hatake was avoiding the questions she wanted to ask, that he'd been distracting her. But as it were, she took one look at the monitors before she stepped into the room flipped her notepad open and began recording everything she saw.

Daniel stood directly to the left of her reading over her shoulder, something made easy considering she was almost a foot shorter than him.  
><em>Ventricular Tachycardia<br>__low blood pressure  
><em>_loss of consciousness (verbal report)  
><em>_tachypnea  
><em>She then began listening out every abnormality she could see; discolored protruding veins, dark liquid on the corner of his mouth, twitching: possible muscle spasms, the constant shifting of his gaze – she had several theories as to what caused that such as mental confusion, anxiety, paranoia, memory loss. Daniel was almost impressed.

"You clean up nice," Sarah said quietly when she entered the room, not missing the step Daniel took away from Tristen.

Tristen looked at Sarah and then down at herself; navy scrubs, a white long sleeved shirt underneath, hair hastily pulled in a bun and pockets filled with tools she'd need. "Probably look more like a nurse now," she said making them both smile before they turned to where Peter lay strapped to a bed. "Guess you couldn't feel his pulse with the gloves on," she said hating the pressurized suits, they hindered patient care.

Sarah shook her head having not even tried; she hadn't been in there more than a minute, three took up too much room so she'd left. "Unfortunately they're too thick, and the straps covered his wrists,"

"And the veins on his neck," Tristen finished for her because not even she would've chanced it. "Shame, a good read on his pulse would've confirmed exactly what we're dealing with in terms of his heart; which at this point, I'd say, is the biggest concern."

"What do you think it is?" From the way Tristen had said 'confirmed' Sarah knew she figured something out, it was almost scientific the way she'd said it – if Alan were to have diagnosed Peter, Sarah thought it would sound like what Tristen had said. At the lack of response Sarah turned to see her looking through the personnel records Hatake had given her, completely unaware she'd been asked something – again, just like Alan. It made her smile to see the similarities.

Daniel looked down at the nurse, who every so often would look up briefly to see Peter and the two scientists before her gaze returned to the records. "Ventricular Tachycardia," he answered for her.

Tris looked through Peter's records but found them to be of little use. She knew he'd been in good health, what she didn't know what why he wasn't anymore – that was a question Doreen was currently trying to find the answer to in his lab. Without much else to do for Peter, when she couldn't actually be in the room with him, she looked through the records of the two deceased scientists he'd worked with. But even then she didn't get anywhere because what she needed were their vitals before they died – the question Hatake had been avoiding. She looked up at Daniel prepared to ask if he knew, to find that she'd been oblivious to the conversation going on beside her.

"You seem to know a lot about medicine and technology for a head of security," Sarah said, turning Tristen's head at how almost offensive that sounded.

But Daniel either didn't notice or was used to borderline offensive comments from the scientists. "Dr. Hatake taught me everything I know."

That was a good enough explanation for Tristen, who expected a head of security to know about the technology in the base he worked in, but before she could even open her mouth Sarah was already asking another question. "Where did you two meet?" she asked, wondering how someone so young was already the head of security.

"An orphanage in Barrow," he answered with an uncomfortable sigh. "I've been with him as long as I can remember."

If Sarah had looked at Tristen she would've known to stop talking, family was the worst subject for casual conversation - and Sarah, who was only trying to break the silence while also getting to know the two strangers beside her, had no idea what she was getting into when she asked Tristen: "Were you and Peter close?"

The look on her face when she turned to Sarah clearly read, "shut up." This was not the time for idle talk, especially not with Alan and Julia about to question Peter. "Yeah I guess," she reluctantly said, looking from Peter to Sarah to see she was hoping for more. "He taught me almost everything; how to dance, throw a baseball, English," the last thing caught both Sarah and Daniel's attention as they stared at her wondering what she meant, but Tristen was looking at where Alan stood. "The hell's he doing, he needs to back up."

"Peter it's me, it's Alan."

She knew from the way Peter was looking at Alan that he didn't recognize him, and the suits probably only added to his alarm. The thought to tell Alan to step back had just entered her mind when Peter tore his restraints knocking Julia to the side.

"I need a security team to quarantine now," Daniel said, his voice echoing over the intercom.

Tris scanned the room, taking her eyes from where Peter lay holding a needle against Alan, looking for the medical cart she'd seen from before. "The cart behind you," she yelled to Julia with the hope there'd be a sedative on it. The two women had worked together enough times that Julia heard her voice and did as she said, finding a tranquilizer; and Tris didn't tell her how much to give him, as she would have to anyone else, because Julia already knew.

"You lie! You all lie! Everyone lies! Everyone!"

It took a moment after Peter began yelling before Tris thought to write it down; what with him trying to stab Alan with the needle that'd been drawing his blood. But once she wrote it she started thinking what it meant, and she added hallucinating to her list of what was happening mentally. She wouldn't know until she could talk to him, and she couldn't talk to him because he was now – she looked up to see Peter's eyes closed and both Alan and Julia taking relieved breaths as they steadied themselves – unconscious and could answer nothing. Which left her with nothing. Again.

"Do you have medical records of the two that died?" she asked looking up at Daniel, who seemed to be as shaken as everyone else.

Sarah turned with wide eyes at the sound of her calm voice. "How are you fine, I'm shaking?"

Tris looked at her to see she'd paled, and her hands had in fact developed a slight tremor – a normal response. That wasn't to say Tristen's chest hadn't gone numb with shock and her heart rate wasn't now elevated, but the shock had passed. "They're both adept at their jobs," she answered, seeing Sarah's brows raise in disbelief. "And there was a sedative within Julia's reach. The situation's passed and no one was infected," she said turning back to her notes uncomfortable with the look on Sarah's face.

With a short laugh Sarah looked up at Daniel, hoping he was finding Tristen's lack of response just as strange, but his eyes were trained on her face. "But your father was almost directly exposed to the pathogen," she continued, finding it unsettling that she – a nurse – was so callous.

Whether it was being interrupted from her questions, again, or that these were more personal questions, Tristen finally had enough. For several moments she did nothing but stare at Sarah before she finally managed a strained smile. "You're new, you don't know any better. So I'm not angry. But mind your business or we're gonna have problems," she warned gently. Turning to Daniel she asked again: "do you have medical records for the deceased? Preferably after they were infected? Did they share symptoms with Peter?"

It almost surprised him how emotionally detached she was from the entirety of the situation; professional. It was also quite unexpected to hear her sounding anything but pleasant. He found himself with that same feeling of not quite impressed, but curious. "There wasn't time," he answered watching her brows draw together in confusion. Before she could ask what he meant he further explained, "They were already gone when we found them." He watched her as she thought, as she mumbled to herself 'don't like the sound of that,' before she quickly scribbled what he'd told her on a new page. It was the first moment he'd taken the time to actually look at her. Beautiful was not a word he often thought of but he thought it then. The sharp edges of her cheeks, the light that shone in her eyes, her full lips that just begged to be smothered. Before the word breathtaking even entered his mind he'd already turned away in refusal.

She paid him no mind when he excused himself, called away by Doreen who had several questions about Peter's lab, and she barely heard Sarah when she spoke to her.

"Nurse Gardot?" Sarah said almost timidly, realizing whatever button Tristen had when it came to family, she'd pushed it.

"Hmm?"

Sarah waited for Tristen to do more than that hum, to look up at her or even acknowledge that she'd been spoken to, but the woman continued flipping through the documents. The words "I'm sorry," burst from her mouth so suddenly Tristen finally looked up. "About earlier," Sarah explained. "I didn't mean to offend you I was just, you don't know what I'm talking about," she said at the sight of her blank look.

Tris tried to remember why she would've been offended, remembering there'd been a conversation, but with everything going on it just wasn't important enough for her to remember. "Not really," she told her honestly, seeing her smile. "What?"

"Nothing," Sarah laughed, "you just remind me a lot of Alan"

She nodded considering that. "I'm not entirely sure if that's a compliment, but thank you." They both laughed, a welcomed change from the insanity that was only a few minuets ago, knowing Alan was oblivious. "Hey, if you check out the two dead guys can you let me know? I'd really like to know what you find, I'm not happy about what he said." She waited until Sarah left, giving a hearty of course, before looking back at her notes and adding black blood to her list.

That would prove to be her biggest stumbling block because scientifically it was impossible. Something she heavily discussed with Sarah an hour later while she set up slides. "You're sure the substance is black?"

"Positive," Sarah said holding up a sample for her to see. "It was awful."

Tris nodded, Sarah having already told her they were skeletal remains – as shocking as it was it didn't explain anything. "So are we saying that's what the virus is doing to Peter?"

"Dr. Walker considered hemorrhagic fever, which explains Peter's fever and low blood pressure, maybe he was in shock and that's why he attacked Alan."

"It's a problem with the ventricles," Tristen said quietly as she thought; an advanced hemorrhagic fever might explain what happened with the other two men but that wasn't what was happening to Peter. It wasn't adding up.

Sarah looked up at her remembering she'd already decided on that. "How do you know?" she asked, curious as to why she was so sure.

"The ECG. Even if he had extreme internal bleeding his heart's ability to pump blood should be normal. In Peter's case his heart isn't functioning normally. I'll still check for internal bleeding though. But that doesn't explain why his blood's black," she said back to where she'd started and neither women had an answer. She sighed heavily smoothing her hair back. "When you're done would you mind helping me suit up, maybe I'll find out more when I examine him."

"By yourself?" Sarah asked knowing Alan wouldn't allow it.

But Tristen wasn't asking Alan for a reason. "I'm gonna ask for an ultrasound I'll have someone stand guard. Head of security, what was his name?" As soon as Sarah answered Tristen left the lab, not giving her time to say no or consider asking Alan's permission. She turned three corners before she found who she was looking for. "I was coming to find you," she said not knowing why Daniel had been coming back this way, but glad because she hadn't seen anyone else from security.

"What can I do for you, Nurse Gardot?" he asked, having specifically come back for her. Hatake was certain she would be the first to discover the virus Peter had didn't match the virus that killed the other two scientists; he'd been even more sure when Daniel said she'd guessed Ventricular Tachycardia.

She stopped in front of him and had to crane her neck to see his face. "I'd prefer Tristen if you're not obligated."

He gave a curt nod considering it, though not obligated he probably wouldn't. "But not Major Balleseros."

The pleasant look on her face melted into one of irritation at the thought of the Major. "Flirt with me and it's Nurse Gardot for you too," she told him. He was so composed that she recognized the twitch of his mouth to be a smile. "Anyways, I was wondering if you had an ultrasound."

"What for?" he asked instead of answering, already having a guess of why she wanted one.

Her answer started with a sigh, already knowing what he'd say. "Peter."

She barely finished before he started refusing. "I can't allow you to go in alone, it's too dangerous."

"You sound like Alan," she muttered. "Look, he's sedated. It's the best time for me to go in." She knew from the lack of change in his unhappy face he wasn't going to agree. "If you're really concerned be my wingman."

It took him a moment before he realized what she'd said, and his brows furrowed as he stared down at her. "What?"

She shrugged. "Stand outside the room and call for backup if it's needed. I'll even get a syringe ready to knock him out when I go in. And in case you need more convincing, I'm going in whether you get me the ultrasound or not." She really thought he'd still say no. His mouth was pulled tight and his eyes were hard as he stared at her, but with a growl of a sigh he turned on his heel and told her to keep up. Within ten minutes she was wheeling the machine into the suit lab.

"I was hoping you'd say no," Sarah told Daniel when she entered the room, prepared to help Tristen suit up before she went to get Alan to review her slides – who would hopefully force her out of the room.

Daniel's eyes were hard when he looked down at the doctor, no happier about this than she was. "It is her job," he said before turning to the nurse. "If you even think he's waking up,"

"I'll sedate him," Tristen finished. At the sight of the two anxious people she rolled her eyes. "Fine, time me for thirty minutes and I'll come out. Alright?" They still weren't happy but they both nodded. "Neither of you would make it as a nurse."

Sarah was about to comment but Daniel beat her to it. "Hence why neither of us are," he said before walking to the observation room.

Tris turned to Sarah already half in the suit. "I really only need you for the tape, I can get Daniel to help if you wanna get Alan."

"It's fine," Sarah assured her, honestly glad she'd forgotten she was irritated with her. "Are you always this calm about potentially contracting unknown pathogens?"

Tris smiled holding out a now gloved hand for Sarah to secure. "My job is the safety and well being of patients, which means contact and more often than not becoming infected myself. Although normally," she held out her other hand, "it's a known pathogen."

Sarah nodded understanding it's what she'd signed up for. "I don't think I'd make it as a nurse," she agreed.

"My last assignment I wiped people's butts after they shit themselves. So you know, nursing's not for everyone."

It was the way Tristen said it, completely nonchalant with a shrug, that had Sarah laughing as Tristen pulled on her hood. "Be careful," she said now that she was ready to go, "Alan will kill me if anything happens to you."

"Nah, he'll blame Daniel," she said before she walked to the airlock.

The first thing she noticed when she stepped into the quarantined room was the tool kit Alan had left behind, complete with a bone saw. "Really?" she asked herself as she pushed the cart away from Peter's bed. "Remind me to take this when I leave," she told Daniel, who stood in the room behind her with his arms crossed.

"Get the sedative and I'll start the timer," he told her. "You've got twenty minutes."

She read the labels on the bottles before grabbing one and a syringe. "I think I said thirty."

"I'm saying twenty," he told her, his voice not offering to be refused. He watched Peter closely, his heart rate was still elevated and his muscles still twitching, looking for any sign that he was waking. Barely two minutes and she asked him to record her findings. She started with the ultrasound, which proved it wasn't internal bleeding, but in the upper quadrants of his abdomen she didn't have a clear reading. Next she moved to Peter's eyes, she didn't include the pupillary response due to the tranquilizer, but Daniel wrote down 'subconjunctiva hemorrhage,' and that it was possibly due to venous pressure. She then moved to his veins, which she paused at for several minutes going over whether or not it could be a valve problem. "Is it the black blood?" he'd asked her. But she said that while she couldn't entirely say no, unoxygenated blood was a dark red and it wasn't this visible so it was unlikely. And that was all he'd gotten to before he was called away. "You've got less than ten minutes, when the timer goes off I want you out of there," he told her firmly, waiting for her to try to talk her way into more time. "Nurse Gardot I need you to acknowledge this conversation is happening," he said when she didn't answer.

Her mouth had been opening to tell him okay when he'd lost his patience. "Alright, I'll leave when it goes off," she told him. "You're a terrible wingman, by the way."

"Just following my pilot's lead."

"Hey," she said turning to him when she remembered that _she_ was the pilot in this instance.

A rare smile tugged the corners of his mouth before his face was once more placid. "If I'm more than five minutes I'll send someone."

She nodded her agreement having already turned back to Peter. It was unfortunate how little she could actually do while in the suit, and with him unconscious it really was the perfect time; but she couldn't listen to his heart or lungs, or feel for a pulse, or feel whether his skin was warm or clammy.

At the sound of the alarm the thought to ignore it crossed her mind, but Daniel was smart – he'd set one that had to be turned off manually and the incessant beeping was enough for her to collect her things.

It wasn't an immediate awareness when the heart monitor flat lined, she almost couldn't hear it beneath the suit and the beeping of the critical warning. But her brain eventually did notice that the pattern had changed and she became acutely aware that someone conscious was behind her. She saw him in the glass, his irises looking black, his face more an animal's than her uncle. Before she could even take a breath he shoved her against the wall and tore her hood off.


	4. Day One: Part Four

Tris stood under the spray from the shower, feeling like she was in a carwash from the sound of the water as it hit the suit. After a minute she began the process of stripping; first the gloves so she'd have better use of her hands, then the boots. Any other time she might've been amused by how much water she dumped out of each one – without her hood water had poured into the suit and collected in her shoes. But in that moment it was all she could do to keep from shaking.

Once undressed she grabbed the soap and tried wash away the feeling of being contaminated. No matter how much soap she lathered on her body, no matter how sterile she became, there was no shower for the mind. She could still feel the warmth Peter's breath as he stood only inches from her face his eyes wide, his growl feral. He'd been an animal.

…

"She's taking a decontamination shower?" Alan asked standing in the observation room staring at the hood on the floor; he didn't need to be told it was Tristen's, he already knew. Panic twisted in his gut when Julia said yes, the thought that he might lose both his brother and his daughter now weighing on him. "Did Peter touch her?"

Julia could hear the desperation in his voice, begging to be told no because she might end up okay. "She didn't say," she answered, watching his eyes close disheartened.

Somehow, beneath his fear, he realized this was why she said they couldn't work together - he was too involved, too emotional when it came to her and it clouded his judgment. "My daughter wouldn't have gone in alone; she at least would've made sure someone was standing here. So why did this happen?" His accusation immediately turned on Daniel, the only person he didn't know.

It may have helped if Daniel didn't blame himself for leaving the nurse alone, he might have thought of something better to say than, "I was called away."

"You were called away?" Alan demanded. "My daughter could be infected and you couldn't bother making sure someone was here with her?"

"Alan," Julia said quieting him. "He told me she was alone, I came immediately. It was no more than five minutes," she said trying to calm him down.

Sarah, who'd stood quietly behind them, finally spoke up. "He did that in five minutes?" she asked pointing at the vent Peter had sawed into. It was impossible: a terminally ill man being able to cut his way through the metal, let alone doing it in such a short amount of time. It didn't make sense.

"He didn't touch her," Alan said suddenly, sparing Peter little thought as he worried for Tristen. He shook his head to Julia and Sarah's, 'you don't know that,' and 'how can you be sure'. "If Tris thought, if she _really_ thought she'd contracted the illness she wouldn't have left that room. She wouldn't chance infecting anyone else, she would've waited for me to tell her what to do."

No one else was as sure as he sounded, as he suddenly felt. "Okay, we'll find Peter then deal with Tristen," Julia told him, seeing the refusal on Alan's face. "Alan you know how she gets when she's scared, this will give her time to calm down. She may not be contagious but Peter is," Julia reminded him. "First things first, we need to tell Dr. Hatake."

"Daniel already did."

They all turned at Hatake's distinctly accented voice to see him standing in the doorway, his face void of the pleasantness he'd once had and now his irritation showed through.

…

Once Tristen put on her scrubs and sat on the bench she was swallowed by thoughts of Peter. Nothing about what happened made sense no matter which way she turned it in her mind. And she sat there staring numbly at the white floor with her hair dripping down her back, losing all track of time.

The sound of the door opening had her looking up for the first time in several minutes. "How are you," Julia asked. She stepped far enough into the room that the door closed behind her but not farther than she had to. "Stupid question, I know," she said trying for humor but she just sounded uncomfortable.

It made Tris smile though, a quaint curl of her mouth as she nodded. "I'm more confused than anything, but I'm fine." It was amazing that she could say that considering how close she'd come to not being fine.

Julia looked at her closely not seeing any sign of worry. "Peter didn't touch you then?"

"No." Her answer was more a breath than it was a sound but Julia read it from her lips and sighed in relief. "I think he recognized me," Tris said looking up at the other woman, who'd taken a few steps closer now that she'd confirmed there'd been no contact. "Where's Alan?"

"Looking for Peter in the air ducts," Julia said shaking her head. "Why he felt the need to go himself,"

"because emotions make him stupid," Tristen answered for her, making them both laugh at how right she was. "I guess I'll stay in the room with my notes, make my own isolation until I'm sure I'm not exhibiting symptoms."

Julia watched her stand knowing she was numb from the fear and worry she should be feeling – she was either extremely fortunate to be able to shove her emotions aside, or she was at a disadvantage in not knowing how to let herself be emotional. "You sure you're alright?" she asked knowing deep down Tristen wasn't, but unless it was Alan it was never easy getting a straight answer out of her when it came to her emotional state.

Tris shrugged having always hated the question of 'are you okay?' The only answer the person asking wanted was yes, even if it wasn't true. "I'm always alright," she said before stepping around Julia, taking more precaution than necessary in not getting too close as she left the room to find her notes.

It took her a moment of staring at the unfamiliar handwriting before she remembered Daniel had transcribed her findings – looking at her watch she could hardly believe that'd been less than an hour ago. She sat for some time thinking about what she saw before she wrote it down; asking herself over and over again if she was absolutely sure what she saw was actually what happened. The word 'impossible' playing on a loop through her mind, before she finally sighed and began taking note.

She couldn't bring herself to even write 'accelerated speed,' the thought of it alone made her shake her head at how stupid it sounded. And yet she'd stood and watched as Peter suddenly began moving faster than she was able to see – one second he'd been in front of her and the next he had the bone saw and was on the bed. She couldn't even say she'd blinked and missed it because her eyes had been so wide with shock and fear she knew she didn't blink, she just hadn't been able to follow his movements fast enough. And then he began pulling the metal of the vent away so he could climb through. Then he was just gone. All of that on top of Ventricular Tachycardia.

It ended with her face in her hands as she tried to clear her thoughts. "No more impossible," she told herself. "What's the craziest thing you can think of?" With a steadying breath she lowered her hands and turned to a new sheet of paper.  
>The virus reprogrammed his heart to meet the higher demand of his muscles, which would explain his tachycardia and why he was able to move at an accelerated rate. Which would mean the function of his nervous system was probably accelerated as well his brain activity. What she wouldn't have given to have him hooked up to every monitor they had just to see how his body had responded to the pathogen.<p>

She was broken from her musings by a knock on the glass, a sound that made her jump from how sudden it broke the otherwise peaceful quiet. "Is everything alright?" she asked the security officer who stood outside.

"Dr. Farragut requested your presence and that I escort you on the condition that Peter did not in fact touch you."

"He didn't," she told him, watching him nod as he began walking down the hall. "Why did Alan ask for me?" she asked, not happy to be following a stranger without a reason why.

He looked at the young woman out of the corner of his eye before relaying the news. "A body was found in the air ducts."

Her eyes widened as she turned to him, briefly considering the idea it was Peter until she realized if it was she wouldn't need an escort – which meant Peter had killed someone. She didn't know what she'd expected when she reached Alan, maybe a body in a body bag, but not an almost naked man laying on a gurney.

"You're fine?" Alan asked placing a hand on her shoulder, not sure if he was reassuring her or himself.

With irritably knitted brows she stepped out of his grasp. "Yeah but a little precaution wouldn't hurt," she told him. "I've been checking my blood every twenty minutes for the past hour and a half, still red." She pulled on a pair gloves before moving beside the body. "Who was he?" she asked looking him over.

"Joseph Kneizeh," Daniel answered, his eyes on her face. "How are you?" he asked, seeing her surprise when she looked up at him. It wasn't until then, seeing her standing beside Joe's body that he realized it wasn't just being infected – Peter could've killed her too. And Daniel had just left her alone with him.

Tris hadn't expected him to ask and it took her a moment to nod. "I'm fine," she told him, her shoulder giving a twitch of a shrug. She turned back to the body before she could see in his eyes he didn't believe her; she didn't believe her either.

The deceased man was young maybe thirty, in good health, handsome. She looked for a wedding ring and instead inspected an arm that had been sawed off near the elbow. His skin wasn't discolored, which is what she'd expect from someone who bled out – but that would take time, enough for him to scream.

Alan, Daniel, and Hatake all watched her hands move to the man's neck, her fingers pressing beneath his chin and around the back of his head where she stilled. Hatake watched her look up at Alan, as though she'd known he was about to ask what was wrong, and saw the small shake of her head before she stepped back and pulled off the gloves.

"I've seen enough to know what happened, I assume you're my escort this time?" she asked looking up at Alan.

He nodded, knowing she'd found something she didn't like. "I need to check in with Jules and Sarah, see if they've found anything." He gave a curt nod to Dr. Hatake, finding something unsettling in the man, before he and Tris began walking. "What is it?" he asked when they'd rounded the corner.

She shook her head not liking what she was about to say, because it only added to her impossible theory. "His neck was broken." She looked over her shoulder suddenly paranoid someone had followed after to hear what she was saying, the hair on her arms standing on end, but no one was there. It didn't cross her mind to look up at the vents.

"There's more," Alan said having already figured Peter had broken his neck – a conclusion he'd unwillingly come to.

With a nod she turned back to the hall in front of them, glad when they reached the room she'd been in. "It's the way his neck was broken," she said after the door closed behind her. "Usually there's still a connection to the base of the skull, but it was like Peter grabbed his head from above and jerked the body downward completely separating the vertebra from the skull. I could actually feel the spinal cord."

Alan watched as she began writing what she'd said hardly believing any of this real. "He's getting stronger," he said realizing she'd figured that out as well.

"Yeah," she said as she continued writing. "It explains how he broke out of the restraints, sawed his way into the vents, and how he got the guard into the vent with him let alone moving him around."

"That doesn't explain how any of it's happening," Alan told her, no closer to figure this thing out than before.

She only shrugged. "That's what you scientists with your fancy PhD's are for."

He smiled at her teasing, knowing most scientists didn't think she even knew how to use a microscope let alone understood what they said. "Guess we should put those to good use," he said watching her smirk briefly before she pricked her finger. He hadn't realized how tense and upset she was until her shoulders slumped in relief at seeing her blood was still red. "Hey," he said wrapping an arm around her, feeling her shoulders draw together.

"I'm fine," she said not even convincing herself. She wanted it to be true, to be above the initial fear and now calm and collected. But she was just bouncing thought to thought, action to action, looking for anything to distract her from how close she'd come to being infected – and after what she'd seen from Peter, this pathogen was terrifying. She just wanted to lie down and hide under the covers.

"You were attacked," he said knowing she was trying her hardest not to be emotional.

But she shook her head. "He didn't touch me," she said as a means of defense. "He tore my hood off and he was about to but I said 'Uncle Peter' and it was like this veil lifted behind his eyes – he looked so," she struggled to think of a word, not noticing the tears gathering in her eyes, "pained."

Alan stood wanting to reach for her, to fold her into his chest and tuck her head under his chin so she fit perfectly against him, but the years had made her independent – she didn't want to need him, no matter how much she did. And so he kept his arms at his side, no matter how much he needed her.

"And then he was gone. That was it," she said trying to convince herself everything was okay as much as she was trying to convince him. "I tell patients all the time it's nothing personal, they got the short end of the stick and we're doing everything we can. But he didn't touch me. So I'm fine."

He stood silently as she tried to give him a reassuring smile, one that always put him at ease enough to leave, but this was more of a grimace – her mouth was a quivering slash on her face and her eyes didn't even bother. And so her face fell, and she looked so much like the scared young girl she'd been when he first met her. "Tristen," he said though his voice was more a sigh. Every fiber of the father in him demanding his arms encase her, but she held a shaking hand up and turned away.

She refused the tears leave her eyes even though they threatened to spill. She wouldn't breathe until she was sure she wasn't gonna cry, he always made her cry. "You should check on the tissue samples," she told him when she'd composed herself.

That's what he should be doing, there were other lives now at stake not just his daughter – but her in danger had forced him to turn away from what was important, and now she was pushing him back. "If that's what you want," he said wishing she'd at least look at him. If he didn't know her as well as he did his eyes wouldn't have caught the small shake of her head, the hesitant 'no' though she gave nothing more. That 'no' meant everything; she didn't want him to leave, she wanted him there and she wanted him to hold her because she wasn't fine. That 'no', as barely perceptible as it'd been, was how he knew she loved him.

His leaving was almost as palpable as the sound of the door opening as closing, she felt it like a band-aid ripped from her skin. "I'm fine," she told herself before pricking her finger again. She smiled. Crimson.

* * *

><p><em>And that was the end of episode one. <em>


End file.
